Earl of Weston_Wicked Regency Romance Page 7

  Edward started to read the note.

  “It is from some man I did not recognize…he signed it Martin, I believe. He requested a meeting with Robert, regarding your gambling debts that he wanted covered. I believe the dates he mentioned are also in there. They were accumulated the week before Robert’s death, at some club or such in London.”

  Edward stared at the note a moment longer. He had not been in the country that week. He wanted to show this to Bergen, to see what he thought of it. It had to be a connection to Robert’s death—he could feel it. He just did not know what that connection could be. He tucked the note into his jacket pocket.

  “Thank you, Mother. I will look into this.” His voice softened. “These are not debts I created.”

  “I could not say.” She was looking away from him again.

  “Well, as I say, I plan to look into this, but I am not going to bother defending myself to you. It is a waste of my time.” He paused. “I will see you tomorrow, Mother. Let us hope for pleasant weather.”

  Satisfied that things would go as well as they could with his mother, he left for his other town house. His home. He had arranged to meet Bergen at the Club, in a couple of hours, for dinner, and he wanted to change his raiment. Bergen had mentioned celebrating Edward's upcoming nuptials. I could use a good brandy or two. It would be good to have a quiet night at the club. As he mounted his horse, he thought more about that note. He wondered what Robert would say about all of this.

  Hattie had never owned anything so lavish or extravagant in her life, she decided, as she saw her reflection in the glass. A well-proportioned woman, in a high-waisted lavender silk gown with a shimmering overdress and dainty capped sleeves, looked back at her. In fact, this gown cost more than the sum of her lifetime’s worth of dresses! She felt like a beautiful princess, but a guilty one. They had never been poor; in fact, Hattie knew she had a dowry which would become her own competence if she did not marry by the age of thirty.

  “Don’t you look a picture, miss!” Sally said from somewhere behind her.

  Tears sprang into Hattie’s eyes as she realized what a change was about to take place. She was terrified. She was no more suited to be a countess, regardless of her genteel upbringing, than Lord Weston was suited to be in the church. They were from two entirely different worlds and this was nothing short of a disaster! Her cheeks heated when she recalled the feeling of his mouth and hands on her—when he had not realized whom he was touching, she thought bitterly. Admittedly, she had responded to his touch, but would it be enough to prevent their marriage being a misery? To keep it from being nothing more than an empty show put on for Society?

  “What is the matter, miss?” Sally asked. “You are supposed to be delighted. Is this not what every lady dreams about? Lord Weston is the most handsome man I have ever seen. And he treats his dependents well, from what I’ve heard tell.”

  “Oh, Sally. It was a horrible mistake. He does not wish to marry me!”

  “Then I suppose he should have considered that before he climbed into your bed!”

  Hattie stood with her jaw hanging open at the maid’s impertinence. Never would one of her mother’s servants have had the audacity to say such a thing—even if what she said was correct.

  The maid was still talking. “It is the way of the world and if he was not to marry you, you would be ruined. I have seen that happen as well and you should be thankful Lord Weston is an honorable gentleman.”

  “Why is he being lauded as honorable for coming into my bed and compromising me?” Hattie snapped.

  “As my mistress said, if such a rumpus had not been raised, then it could have been kept quiet.”

  “So, now the whole sordid affair becomes my fault?” Hattie asked, incredulous.

  “Now then, don’t fly up into the boughs right before your wedding. As my ma always said, ‘What’s done is done and now you make the best of it.’”

  “A charming start to any union,” Hattie muttered in defiance, but she was most afraid of what came after the ceremony. Granted, she had not known anything the other night and things had progressed regardless, but instinct told her there was more than what had happened.

  “Sally?”

  “Yes, miss? I am almost finished now.” She put a few more pins in Hattie’s hair.

  “Have you ever… do you know… oh, how do I ask this?” Hattie threw up her hands.

  Sally stepped in front of her and smiled. “You mean the wedding night? But I thought…”

  “How could you think that?” she asked, dropping her hands on her hips.

  “I am sure I do not know, miss.” Sally chuckled.

  Hattie’s shoulders slumped. “Well, we were, but when I felt his... his... snake…”

  “Oh lawks! So you truly did call it a snake!” Sally burst out laughing and kept laughing until she was holding her sides and crying.

  “Sally!” Hattie snapped, in an attempt to bring the maid out of her merriment.

  “I am sorry,” she sighed, still smiling. “That is the funniest story I have heard in my life.”

  “I am happy to know you enjoyed my distress, but do be serious for a moment. I need to know what happens. The Bible mentions joining, but how does it happen?”

  “Well, now, miss. How do you think it happens?”

  Hattie thought for a moment and shock registered on the face staring back at her from the looking-glass when she realized the snake’s purpose.

  “Oh no,” she whispered.

  “Yes. But don’t you worry, it will fit.”

  “I do not want it to fit!” she protested.

  “You will, mark my words.” Sally winked. “And almost any other female in the country would, too. You had best appreciate what you’ve been given.”

  The maid’s words did not make her feel at all better. She could not stop thinking about what was going to happen to her and regretted asking. Lord Weston had made it clear he wanted heirs, so there was no hope for a marriage in name only. She was sick to her stomach at the thought she would have to face him during the ceremony, knowing what was to come. All of those people would be watching her, knowing what they had done and knowing she was not sophisticated enough for him.

  “Stop worrying yourself to flinders. His lordship knows what he is doing. Just let him do what he wants and all will be well.”

  Hattie expelled a deep breath and reminded herself she wanted to be a good wife. Being submissive to someone else was going to be difficult after six and twenty years without such constraints.

  “Now you look the perfect bride—so long as you don’t squint.”

  “So long as I do not trip or run into the altar,” Hattie added.

  There was a knock on the door and Sally let Richard inside.

  “Sister, you are beautiful!” he exclaimed. She smiled despite her nerves.

  “Thank you, Richard. I have never owned anything so dear,” she confessed.

  “That circumstance was a dreadful oversight on my part. This toilette was worth every penny. I trust the other gowns were delivered with this one?”

  “Yes, you were very generous, brother.”

  “I very much enjoyed spending the day with you, Hattie. I hope, once you are settled, we may join our families together on better terms. Louisa will come about. If nothing else, you will outrank her,” he teased. “Are you ready to be married?”

  “May I answer honestly?” Hattie responded, looking up at her brother.

  “Perhaps I should put it another way. Everything will work out for the best. You will see, dear Hattie. I do not believe in accidents. All things happen for a reason, and I truly think you and Weston were intended for each other.”

  “I can scarce credit that my brother sounds so wise.”

  “Your brother has been married to Louisa for ten years.”

  “And this has made you wiser?” she asked skeptically.

  “Indeed. You can choose to make the best of any situation.”

  “I suppose so.” She
smiled sheepishly up at him.

  “One last piece of advice,” he said as they walked through the house. “Find Archie his own room to sleep in.”

  Richard had insisted upon them having the ceremony at the church. Despite the inauspicious beginning, he wanted to imagine a love match. Hattie was entirely too practical for that. She was no beauty like Lady Pennywaite, though Sally had managed to work a miracle with her appearance in three short days. Never would she become accustomed to having her bosom on display; she could even see them without looking, although they were less conspicuous than those belonging to most ladies.

  Richard handed her down from the carriage and escorted her up the steps to the church. Before the doors were opened to the nave, a place where Hattie was normally most comfortable, she felt guilty about crossing the threshold. This wedding was a farce—except it was still happening.

  The bells chimed the hour of ten and the doors swung inwards. The small church was almost full, Hattie noticed, though she could not see faces clearly. The local vicar must have gathered his parishioners to support Lord Bentley. She was still in mourning and had hoped for something discreet. Richard escorted her down the aisle, which was full of sunlight shining through the tall stained glass, until she stood next to her future husband in front of the altar. She felt inadequate. It was grossly unfair for him to be so handsome. He wore a dark blue coat of superfine which was tightly fitted to him and her thoughts strayed to what he looked like underneath those elegant clothes. A flush rose in her cheeks as she realized the vicar was speaking and she had not heard a word. She would dearly love to have a fan and to loosen her corset. Edward was watching her with a twinkle in his eye. Could he read her thoughts? How mortifying!

  “Do you, Harriet Eleanor Longbottom...”

  “Bottom! Bottom!” She heard Archie screech, and the congregation rumbled with suppressed laughter. She looked over to where Lord Bergen stood on the other side of the groom, and there was Archie, with something around his neck, trying to spread his wings.

  “What is he doing here?” she whispered.

  “We thought you would want him here,” Edward whispered back.

  She smiled sweetly at him. It was very considerate of him. Everyone knew rakes could be charming, though.

  “He greeted me as whoremonger,” he told her with a wink.

  “Oh!”

  The vicar cleared his throat in a condemnatory manner and continued with the vows until it was time for her to say, “I will.”

  What choice did she have, she wondered cynically. When would her wariness cease? She was vowing before God to honor, obey, and cherish a man she did not know.

  The time came to exchange rings, and Hattie was surprised. She had played the organ at countless weddings and she knew every note by heart, yet this ceremony was difficult to follow.

  Edward took her hand to place the ring on it, and she hoped he could not feel how she shook. He slid a golden band of diamonds and sapphires onto her finger, and it was all she could do not to stare. She had never seen anything so beautiful—certainly she had never owned any such precious gems.

  Before she allowed herself to think too much of it, she realized the ring was, in all likelihood, a family heirloom, and a countess was expected to have such extravagance.

  “I now pronounce you man and wife.”

  Before the impact of who she was dawned on her, she was signing her new name in the register and being led back through the chapel. What strange turn of fate had found her now married and a countess to boot?

  Chapter 7

  The ceremony ended and Edward and Hattie immediately walked towards a waiting barouche, ready to take them to their breakfast celebration. Lord Richard Bentley had taken pains to ensure his sister’s wedding was flawless. Edward had to admit this was a nice touch. His own coach could have served, but he had not even thought to have it ready at the ceremony’s end. Gil, his valet, would use it to make sure his mother arrived at the breakfast.

  Holding her hand, he helped his countess into the vehicle. Hattie adjusted her dress and moved to make room for him when he joined her.

  “You made a beautiful bride today, Hattie.” She truly did look lovely.

  “Thank you, my lord.” She blushed.

  “Edward. I would like it very much if you would call me Edward.” He squeezed her hand affectionately.

  “Yes, my—Edward.” She grinned.

  “I have given this a lot of thought, and I found myself...looking forward to our union. I want...” His throat worked as he struggled to find the right words. “I want to have a faithful relationship, despite what our beginning may have led you to believe, and I wanted to tell you that.” He had realized, over the past few days, that there was a seed of friendship here, one that he wanted to nurture.

  “And that holds for you as well, my lord—the faithfulness?” Her response was direct.

  “Yes, Hattie, it does.” He glanced about and assured himself that he still had a few minutes before they arrived at her brother’s home for their wedding breakfast. He wanted this to be a special moment between the two of them. Reaching into his pocket, he extracted the velvet jewelry pouch. “This is for you.” He opened the pouch and pulling out the bracelet, secured it around her gloved wrist.

  Hattie gazed down at her wrist. “I have never owned anything so beautiful, Edward. Thank you.”

  “I am so glad you find it to your liking. The necklace and earrings which match it are inside the pouch. I will hold them if you would like me to.”

  “I do not know what to say. You have me at a disadvantage, Edward. I have nothing to give you as a gift.”

  “You do have something I want.” He smiled. “Hattie, I realize that the start of our relationship was hardly the way either of us would have chosen, but if you will give me the chance, I will work hard to change your opinion of me. I want this marriage to be a good one.” He searched his pocket once more and pulled out a small, carefully wrapped package. “This is also for you.”

  Hattie unwrapped the thin package and stared at the gift. She looked up at Edward, and picked up the spectacles, holding them close to examine them. “They are finer than the ones I lost, Edward.” She carefully placed them on and looked up at him, as her eyes filled with tears. “You did this for me?”

  “I saw them in London. When I looked through the lenses, I realized what difficulty you must have seeing without them, and I wanted to change that.” He gently regarded her, his forefinger tenderly brushing her chin. “They look nice on you.” He kissed her on the cheek. “We have arrived. Here, use this.” “He pulled out his pocket linen out and handed it to her. “This might help dry your eyes.” Edward watched her dab her eyes with his handkerchief. “Hattie, I hope you will not object to our staying here an extra night or so. I have some business I would like to see finished.”

  Hattie nodded. “Yes, Edward. I will be happy to stay longer. This gives me a little extra time with my brother, Richard.”

  “Then it is settled. Shall we greet our guests?” He helped her from the barouche and together they walked through the crowd of cheering friends and family to the banquet hall.

  Lord and Lady Bentley met them at the door. “Lord Weston, Lady Weston, welcome!” Her brother hugged her. Edward watched Lady Louisa curtsey to her newly wedded sister-in-law, and held back a chuckle. I am sure she is enjoying Hattie’s new rank.

  “Your seats are this way.” Bentley led the bride and groom to their seats. The hall had been transformed with flowers, candles, and tables of food. Ivy wrapped around the round columns and framed tables of desserts—iced cookies and cakes—breads, and meats. A three-tier wedding cake sat in a place of honor on a small table to the right of the round, lace-covered dessert table. Footmen began serving plated food of meats—particularly, duck and pigeon, breads, and vegetables.

  “There is so much food, Richard,” Hattie offered. “It looks lovely.” She reached for her drink and her bracelet dangled, chiming against the glass.
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  Louisa reached across the table and pulled Hattie's arm to her face. “That looks familiar. Where did you get that bracelet?” Louisa’s voice was loud and her tone accusing.

  “Louisa, you are mistaken. Please sit down,” her disgruntled husband growled. He glared at his wife. “Sit down!” he whispered loudly.

  “Jezebel! Too close!” Archie screamed at the back of the exiting woman—presumably, Edward reflected, sensing the need to come to his mistress’s rescue. The popinjay flapped his wings loudly.

  “Archie, please...” Hattie’s reprimand was very weak, hiding behind the broad smile she directed to her bird.

  The Dowager Countess seated herself across from Hattie. “I believe, Lady Bentley, that was most probably a gift from my son,” she supplied, narrowing her eyes at Louisa.

  Edward noticed the sneer on his new sister-in-law’s face. The woman did nothing to improve her looks. He thought of lemons—sour ones—each time he glanced at her. Hattie did not look for his help; he could not miss the look of determination on her face. ’Tis best I allow my wife to handle this. Having decided, he pretended not to hear, and instead concentrated on his plate. His respect for his new wife was growing quickly.

  Louisa lightly touched Hattie’s arm. “Lord Bentley is correct, my lady. I was just taken with it, as it reminded me of the one my dear departed mother once owned.”

  Hattie leaned as close to her sister-in-law as she could. She spoke quietly, but firmly.

  “Dear Louisa, my sister, should you have such a lapse again, I would beg that you ask me in a place of privacy before you grab my person. Your conduct towards me was most gauche, and I will not respond in kind. My husband presented this bracelet to me this morning on our way here. It is part of his wedding gift to me.” She paused. “I will add that you have had more practice at these affairs. I might have looked to you for an example of proper conduct, but, sadly, even I realize that is not to be.” She sat back and turned her attention to her plate.